


Allay

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 15:51:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: They pull over; Prompto’s thirsty.





	Allay

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “vampire!Prompfo ;) I'd just really love to see Prompto feeding from Noctis. The more sensual, the better! +if Noct moans. a LOT. +++if they come up for heated kisses after, and Noct accidentally swipes his tongue over Prompto's fangs. The resultant blood drives Prompto absolutely WILD.” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9092491#cmt9092491).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The Regalia pulls to one side of the empty road, and Ignis wordlessly climbs out of the driver’s seat. Prompto can hear Gladiolus following, though he pauses to ask, voice low and with a subtle edge, “Noct, are you sure?”

Prompto tenses, even as Noctis easily answers, “Yeah.”

“We won’t go far,” Gladiolus tells them both. “Just shout when you’re done. And be quick about it—it’s too dark to be out in the open like this; we need to make it back to an outpost before the daemons show.”

Noctis grunts another noncommittal yeah, “Yeah.” 

But Prompto draws a shuddering breath, more out of habit than need, and swallows down a swell of guilt. He always feels guilty when he does this, no matter who’s supplementing. Even back when it was just packets, smuggled to him from his parents or from Ignis. It was mortifying when Ignis found out. Maybe it’s worse now. He can’t believe they’re _letting him do this._

Gladiolus and Ignis disappear off into the blackness beyond the road, swiftly gone from the headlights’ dull glow. And Prompto thinks _maybe he’ll resist_ , maybe he’ll stay right where he is and call them back, insist they all move on—maybe it’d be for the best if he just died of starvation. Or re-died or whatever. But Noctis smells _so good_.

And that, more than anything, is what draws him to climb out of the passenger’s seat and over into the back, where Noctis patiently awaits him. Noctis slumps against the leather interior like this is nothing special, no big deal. The sort of thing friends do for each other all the time. Prompto still gives him a shaky, “Thanks.”

With a lazy smile, Noctis mutters, “No problem.” He looks too good when he smiles. He always looks good. Prompto’s throat is dry. Noctis shrugs and tells him, “If you need to feed, you need to feed.” Prompto shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve let his stomach rumble and hoped his friends just forgot how much of an abomination he really is.

Noctis doesn’t seem to care. He’s the best friend Prompto’s ever had. The best friend Prompto could ever hope for. He tilts his head aside and tugs back the collar of his jacket, offering up the lean line of his throat. The pale skin, almost alabaster against the black of his clothes and hair, practically makes Prompto salivate. He’s so _beautiful._ He’s the prince of Prompto’s wet dreams. 

And he waits, still and patient, as Prompto ducks forward to tentatively lick across his neck. Prompto tongues the soft skin like a frightful puppy testing its new master. Noctis’ breath comes a little faster, and he mumbles, “Prom...”

Prompto opens his mouth wide, lets his fangs graze over the dampened area, and then he sinks right in. His teeth slice into Noctis’ flesh without any trouble, boring neat, hopefully painless holes, carefully sealed with the salve of his saliva. It’s specially engineered just for _this_. His victim shudders and hopefully doesn’t suffer. A tremor runs through Prompto’s body nonetheless. Noctis tastes so good. Everything he ever wanted. One of his hands lands on Noctis’ thigh, just steadying his weight, the other loose at Noctis’ hip. Prompto dares a little sip.

Noctis _moans_. The sound rushes through Prompto’s entire being, hitting him hard. Noctis’ taut body relaxes in his grip, and Prompto stays clamped on. Prompto sucks properly. Noctis cries out, chest arching up, and then it’s fluttering down as his head lolls with another moan—a long, deep, drawn-out noise that makes Prompto whimper around his mouthful. Noctis lightly writhes, breathes hard, and spills a litany of noises, each more tantalizing than the last. Prompto can barely stand it. Noctis tastes _delicious_. And Prompto sucks him up in greedy little binges, while Noctis’ skin burns hot beneath him.

Another moan, and Prompto’s the one trembling. It isn’t fair. He’s so _grateful_ to have Noctis in his life, to _taste_ his gorgeous prince, but why does Noctis have to be so damn _erotic_? So tasty, so sweet? So hot, so perfect.... Prompto’s rock-hard, all the blood in his body shifting to all the wrong places. He feels drunk off Noctis.

And he wrenches suddenly away because of that—because Noctis is his everything, and he’s afraid to take too much. His saliva instantly sets to work stitching up the tiny holes he leaves behind. He stares down at Noctis. Noctis looks back up at him, glassy eyes dilated and hazy. Then, before Prompto knows what’s happening, Noctis is surging forward.

He thrusts his tongue into Prompto’s mouth. Their lips smash together. Noctis presses a heat kiss against him, and then Noctis tilts, and his tongue drags across Prompto’s fangs at an all-wrong angle, tearing shallowly along the side. The blood that wells up in Prompto’s mouth drives him absolutely wild. He should jerk away and leave Noctis alone, but instead he kisses Noctis _hard_ and grinds Noctis back into the seat. He’s humping Noctis before he can stop himself. Noctis kisses back with equal fervour, the two of them making out like Prompto’s always dreamed of.

Prompto doesn’t have the wherewithal to stop. But Noctis pulls away at the sound of Gladiolus’ clearing throat. Prompto’s only distantly aware that their two friends have returned. He’s practically swaying on the spot, dizzy from a rush of racing blood and hormones. Ignis tells them, “I assume that was enough time to tide Prompto over. We really should return now to the nearest outpost.”

Prompto breathlessly nods. Gladiolus opens the car door, and Noctis barks before he can sit down, “Gladio, you should take the passenger seat.”

Prompto can’t stifle his grin. Gladiolus pauses but doesn’t fight it. He gets in next to Ignis. Prompto stays where he is, staring at Noctis dreamily, madly in hunger, lust, and love.

But he doesn’t try anything else, now that the entourage is back. He keeps himself in check as Ignis hits the gas. Noctis lets out a yawn and leans his head on Prompto’s shoulder. The two of them cuddle up in the backseat, and the Regalia carries them off into the waiting darkness.


End file.
